The Lyrics
by ThatOneQueen
Summary: Clarissa Fray is a poor songwriter with a troublesome past. But her life changes all of a sudden, when she tries to sell some personal lyrics. Suddenly her life isn't simple anymore, when Jace Herondale takes interest in doing a duet with her. She is launched in a world of fame, parties and a lot of money. Can she handle this harsh world, and keep her real identity hidden? AH.
1. Haunted dreams

_I looked down at my mother's pale face. Her eyes were half shut, sweat gleamed on her forehead. She breathed with a rattling sound. I reached out for her face with my trembling hands and wiped her auburn hair from her face. 'Mom?'I asked. No answer. 'Please,' I begged, 'please, don't leave me. I don't know what to do without you, I can't handle it alone.' Slowly, very slowly, her lovely green eyes fluttered up to my face. She tightened her hands around mine._

 _'_ _Don't,' she said. 'You're going to be alright, I know that you will be. You have to get away from here, make a new life for yourself. Be happy. And never forget that I love you.'_

 _Her hands released mine and her eyes closed again. When she spoke again, she spoke so softly that I had to lean forward to hear her words._

 _'_ _Can you sing for me, little bird?'_

* * *

 _I'm the one with the ghosts in my bed,_  
 _But they only come alive at night._  
 _Stuck in my sheets an accustomed coffin,_  
 _I swear that I'll be fine,_  
 _I'll be fine in the daylight._  
 _If I change, I start to fade,_  
 _And all the green in my eyes desaturate,_  
 _It's my head not my heart that's strayed._  
 _I'm sorry I keep pushing you away._

 _You're the one at the foot of my bed trying to keep me alive at night._  
 _Using words as a comforter you said, "I don't wanna fight, I don't wanna fight."_  
 _But they, they sink into my skin,_  
 _Pushing you out just to make their way in._  
 _I've grown sick of this fight so frequent._  
 _If you can't help it then I'll push you away._

 _Why can't you stay?_  
 _I'm up against these things I can't see._  
 _They don't compare._  
 _Make me believe, make me believe._

I softly sang the newly written lyrics out to myself, trying the sound of the words on my tongue. It had been around 2 AM when I'd woken up from a nightmare, parts of lyrics haunting my mind, so it was impossible to get back to sleep. Instead, I had taken a notebook and started writing down words. It was nearly six in the morning when I finished, and I could already see a red light creeping through my window. I had no curtains; they were a luxury I couldn't afford. I didn't earn a lot of money with my song writing, just enough to afford the rent of my small, crappy room and just enough food to keep me alive. In the weekends I worked as a waitress in a small restaurant. I hated that job, but it earned me just enough money for clothes and stuff like that. It was a simple live that I lived, but I was content with it. I loved writing lyrics and music in general and I was happy to do the work I loved.

After recording a demo of the lyrics, I started my computer up and uploaded it. It were good lyrics, so I hoped I would get around 100-200 dollars. That would provide me for enough food and a place to live for about a month. I hesitated though, before I put the lyrics online for sale. They were really personal, written to be sung by me, not by some other singer who didn't know the real meaning of them. In the end I put them up for sale though, because I could really use the money.

I turned the computer off and went to bed again, trying to get some sleep before I couldn't anymore, due to the bright daylight coming from my curtain-less window.

* * *

After sleeping for what felt like minutes, I awoke to the sound of my mobile phone beeping. Still half dazed from sleeping I tried to find my phone to turn the alarm off. That was before I realized that I hadn't set an alarm for this morning. I was fully awake at once when I discovered that someone was trying to call me. Desperately, I must say, since I already had missed ten earlier calls from the same unknown number. Hesitantly I picked up.

'Hello?'

'Hi, is this Clarissa Fray?' a young woman's voice asked. I didn't recognize her voice.

'Um, yeah, that's me, what can I help you with?' I responded politely.

'Oh, good. I'm Isabelle Lightwood, sister of Jace Herondale, also known as his stylist and manager. I call because of the demo of the lyrics you put up for sale last night, because we think that it are great lyrics and we would love to...'

'Jace Herondale?' I squeaked, interrupting her. It couldn't be true. 'As in, the _famous_ Jace Herondale?' As in the too perfect to be true, golden eyed rockstar? He was the most popular singer around, you could see him on every billboard in New York. Damn, you couldn't even buy a magazine without seeing him, most of the time shirtless, on the cover of it. He was known to be cocky, a little arrogant and a party animal. He was one of those guys who had a new girl every week, just because they could.

The girl laughed. 'Yes, that Jace Herondale. So, as I said, we think you're lyrics are perfect for him, but we don't want him to sing them alone. In other words: we want to buy your lyrics and want to ask you if you have any interest in doing a duet with him?'

My eyes almost popped out of my head. This was big. Really, really big. Singing a duet with someone as famous as Jace Herondale could make me famous too. So it would definitely rid me of my financial problems. But fame wasn't really a good thing, not for me, since I didn't want my father or brother figuring out where I am. But a chance like this...

'Clarissa? Are you still there?'

I realized only then that she was waiting for my answer. 'Sorry, I was a little... overwhelmed. But I would love to do a duet, though I've got some conditions,' I said.

'Well,' Isabelle said, 'I'm sure we can arrange something. When do you have time to make an appointment?'

 **So... what do you guys think? Oh, I'm already sorry for the grammar mistakes that I've made, since I'm from The Netherlands English can be a bit hard for me..;) The lyrics in this chapter are from PVRIS, you really should check their music out if you don't know them, its amaaazing!  
**


	2. First impressions

**First impressions**

I stared in the mirror. Two slightly panicked green eyes stared back. It was two days since I got the call from Isabelle, and we'd decided to meet at 11 o'clock on Tuesday. Tuesday... today. I had been a mess the last two days. My nails proved the evidence; they were bitten too stumps. Thanks to my nervousness, I had barely slept, so I also looked like crap. My normally pale skin was almost transparent now, making every freckle stand out even more. My mom had always thought they looked cute, but I hated them. They made me look... fragile, even 'cute' according to a friend from when I was younger. I didn't want to look fragile or cute. My height probably didn't help too; I was barely 5.3 feet and also a lightweight.

I didn't put on any make-up, since I thought that it was a waste of money, only to look a little prettier (or fake, in my opinion). My hair was a lost case, so I didn't even try to fix it; instead I pulled a black beanie over my head. On good days I loved my hair, when it wasn't frizzy or impossibly knotted. It was a deep red, less auburn than my mother's hair, but I'd accepted a long time ago that I would never be as pretty as she'd been.

A look at the time told me that I was late. As usual. So instead of breakfasting properly, I grabbed an apple and ran out of the door. Before I'd set ten steps, I stumbled and fell. I yelped and put my arms wildly out before me. The palms of my hands connected with the street and a stinging sensation shut up through my arms. I blinked. My hands were sticky and aching. Looking at them, I sighed. I had scraped my hand palms once again, and blood slowly trickled down my fingers, making me look like I played a part in a really bad horror movie. I glared down at the cause of my fall. I had forgotten to lace my shoes in my hurry. Typical.

My feet had chosen a very inconvenient spot to trip (as if there even is a convenient place to trip), because my right hand had been cut by a piece of glass that lay on the street. If I only had fallen a step later... But I hadn't, and know my right hand was stinging as hell and very bloody. Great. Just great, on the day you are going to sing a duet with a famous rockstar and are already running late.

That last thought set me on a sprint to the bus stop again, cursing loudly and trying really hard not to trip over my still unlaced shoes again. I managed to catch the bus, which I was very proud of. The bus driver looked slightly concerned at me. 'Are you okay girl?' he asked as I bought a ticket. I managed a weak smile. 'Yeah, I'm fine, alright,' I said between gasping breaths. He didn't really look like he believed me though.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I sprinted from the bus stop towards the address Isabelle had given me. I was in danger of being late again. The bus had had delay, thanks to all the traffic in New York. It was an understatement to say that I was proud that I had made it exact on time in the end.

Panting, I walked into a large, chic looking studio. I stopped in the middle of the entrance hall, not knowing for sure what I had to do know. I startled when I heard a voice from behind me.

'Are _you_ Clarissa Fray?'

I spun around, wild-eyed. A man was leaning nonchalantly against the wall. In my stressed state, I must have walked straight past him. I looked up to his face, his annoyingly handsome face, disbelief and curiosity clearly visible on it. Jace Herondale. _Oh, shit._

'Well, err... yes, that's me,' I said flushing with embarrassment. He slowly took in my appearance, from my unlaced shoes, to my hair. His gaze lingered a little longer on my hands.

'O-kay...' he said slowly, 'Err, your hand-'

'Yeah, I know,' I interrupted him. 'I forgot to lace my shoes, because I was in a hurry, you see. And then I tripped and-'

'No,' he cut me off.

'What?' I said in confusion.

'That's not what I meant. Your blood. It's making the floor dirty.'

 _Asshole._ I looked at the floor. Indeed, there were some blood splatters on it. I looked up to his face again and smiled sweetly. 'You're an ass, you know?' I said.

* * *

'Ah, you must be Clarissa. Nice to meet you, I'm Isabelle, but you can call me Izzy.' Those words were spoken by a beautiful, tall, black-haired woman. She looked around my age. I was immediately jealous of her beautifulness; she looked like someone who should be walking on a catwalk.

'Hi, I'm Clarissa, Clary for short,' I said to all the people in the room I'd just stepped into. 'Sooo, what's the plan?' I asked.

A tall, slightly Asiatic looking man spoke up.

'I'm Magnus, I assist Izzy where needed. We thought we'd let you sing the whole song first, so we can hear the rhythm of it, and after that we'll have to see who's going to sing which part of the song,' he said. 'What happened to your hand by the way?'

I looked down at my now wrapped up hand. Jace had glared at me after I said that he was an ass and said: 'You're short, you know?' And at my turn I had glared right back at him. I hated people making remarks about my height. Especially annoying, ridiculous handsome, golden-eyed rockstars. We had an epic glaring game, one he broke by saying: 'We should get your hand wrapped up; you're still dripping blood on the floor.' After that, he'd brought me to a room with a first aid kit, and tossed me some bandages.

I smiled at Magnus. 'Long story.'

Isabelle led me to a room with a microphone in. 'Is it alright if we record it?' she asked. I nodded. 'Okay,' Isabelle said as she closed the door and went out of the room, 'whenever you're ready, you can start,' she said.

The was a glass wall in the room, and on the other side I could see Isabella, Magnus, Jace and some other people watching me expectantly. It reminded me of my mother. _Can you sing for me, little bird?_

And I did. I put all my emotions in my voice, emotions I hadn't showed in a long time. I sang like I should have the night she died, the night that my voice was too broken to sing properly. All my nervousness flowed out of me, even my annoyance about Jace lessened. At moments like this, I knew what I was living for. I knew why it was worth it to live with the pain every day.

And when I finished the last sentence, and my voice still resounded though the quiet room, I knew I had sung it perfectly.

 **Chapter two, ladies and gentlemen. A HUGE thank you to all the lovely reviewers! And also to the readers who read this story even after reading my pathetic summary. I know this isn't a very long chapter, but I didn't have any time to make it longer... I'm having final tests next week and I'm dying because of all the shit I have to learn. So after this week I'll probably have time to write longer (and better) chapters. Please tell me what you think of this chapter!:)**


End file.
